My Favorite Mistake
by fanficto obsesso
Summary: COMPLETE! Hermione Granger, in the wake of one of the ugliest wars in Magical History, meets her childhood nemisis, Draco Malfoy, who pleads for her help. Dirty and penniless with only his wand and the clothes on his back, he's forced to humble himself.
1. Hermione's Prologue

**Hey, hey, hey! This is the new version that I mentioned in my last update. Please be kind and review. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Tell me if you like this one better, or if you would like for me to continue on with the old version. Thanks for taking your time to give this a chance!

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**My Favorite Mistake****  
By: Fanfictoobsesso**

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**Summary: **WARNING! HBP SPOILERS! It's been six years since Dumbledore's death and five since Ron's death and Harry's defeat of Voldemort. Hermione is now ready to start the beginning of a somewhat normal life with a new apartment and a new, boring desk job...just as she liked it. But when Draco Malfoy, who has been missing since he botched his one and only task from the Dark Lord, shows up at her door, her ho-hum life suddenly gets a little bit more interesting.

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**Listen to:** _My Favorite Mistake_ - Sheryl Crow

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**Chapter 1  
Hermione's Prologue**

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Everything happens for a reason.

I know that.

We're supposed to learn from our mistakes, but I have yet to learn my lesson. Even though I'm a witch, I'm still human. Humans are imperfect…capable of being wrong. And, boy, was I ever wrong. I don't know what I ever saw in that cruel, loathsome, pompous, evil, little…

Anyway, you get what I mean. Making mistakes is hard enough. Admitting that you made one…that's even harder. It took me six months to admit my biggest one. Remember, though, I'm only human.

I suppose you'd like to hear the tale of how Hermione Granger – Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, one part of the Golden Trio, brightest witch of my year – finally screwed herself over, correct? Well, I guess I'll begin with this:

There is a song by an American Muggle by the name of Sheryl Crow who once sang a song about her "favorite mistake." Well, although this story is about my biggest mistake, it is also about my favorite.

My favorite mistake.

Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Hermione was running. It was all she ever did anymore. For the past five years since they had left the – ahem – comfort of the Dursleys home the moment Harry became of age and was, therefore, released from the spell his mother had left on him when he was a year old, she and Ron were on the run right along with him. 

She made a sharp turn to her left into a thick forest, narrowly escaping a beam of green light coming from behind her. She didn't stop running, though. She continued even though her lungs begged for air and her legs burned and tingled with exhaustion. Finally, she saw that she was deep enough into the forest and collapsed behind a particularly thick bush.

As she caught her breath, she began to think, not for the first time, about how life was before she decided that she would stay by Harry's side until the very end. She still had her fair share of adventures, yes, but not like this. Merlin, never like this. She peeked around the bush to see if the coast was clear and saw that it, indeed, was. But she stayed low and waited for a bit longer, just in case. _Constant vigilance! _she thought wryly. But she found that it paid off, for not two seconds later, someone came staggering through the trees, his (or her) face hidden by a black hood. Of course, that only indicated one thing for sure – this person was a Death Eater. Hermione stayed low and pulled out her wand, quickly thinking, _Petrificus Totalus_. Immediately, the shadowed figure went rigid and stiff, falling over, face first, onto the forest floor. Hermione waited a while longer to see if this one had any back-up with him. After seeing that he (or she, Hermione hastily added to herself) was just as alone as she was, she came out of her hiding place and walked over to the rigid body flipping it over.

"Malfoy," she spat, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. Surely, after what Harry had told her about Draco Malfoy failing his "master" and leaving the murder of Dumbledore to Snape (at this memory, Hermione felt herself choking up for a second, as she often did when thinking about Dumbledore and his tragic death), Malfoy surely would have been – er – disposed of. Apparently not.

Hermione stared in contempt into the cold, grey eyes of the boy who had made the lives of her friends, in addition to her own, a living hell for as long as they had gone to school together. The last she had heard of him, he had fled Hogwarts with Snape after the murder of Dumbledore back in her sixth year. From what she had heard from Ginny, with whom she and Ron corresponded with on occasion still, Draco had not returned for his seventh year, not surprisingly. In fact, many had not returned, including the Golden Trio, even though the school remained, albeit reluctantly on the governors' part, open until the battle just before the winter holiday. Of course, after that, they had no choice but to send everyone home.

Hermione pulled Malfoy's wand from his pocket and, because she felt compelled to do so, waved her wand so that only his head was not petrified. The rest of his body from the neck down was still rigid. Immediately, Malfoy's expression formed into his too familiar sneer.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked at the same time.

"I think, Malfoy," Hermione began, "that since you seem to be the vulnerable one in this situation…" she punctuated her statement by holding both wands firmly pointed at his chest. He, at least, had the decency to look a bit frightened.

"None of your business, Granger," he spat, although not as vehemently as he would have if not in the position he found himself in. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised you even remember my name, Malfoy, considering that the only thing you've ever called me since second year was 'Mudblood'." He scowled.

"Only because, as you said, I _am_ the vulnerable one, here. And I'm not stupid, Granger. Although you are a Mudblood, you are still one of the cleverest witches I had ever come across." Hermione was flattered a bit by the compliment, however reluctantly it was given.

"Yes, that is true. Yet you still refuse to answer my question. Do you think that wise?" To her surprise, Malfoy laughed a bit…a cold, hard, bark of a laugh.

"What would you do, Granger…kill me?" The mocking tone in Malfoy's voice grated on her nerves. But she knew, as well as he did, that she wouldn't be able to kill him. She wasn't capable of such cruelty as to kill someone in such a vulnerable position. But then again…neither would he.

"Of course not," she said after a moment. Then, she couldn't help adding, "But you wouldn't do it, either, if you were in my place." It seemed that she had struck a nerve because as soon as the words left her mouth, Malfoy's eyes darkened with fury.

"Shut it, Mudblood. You don't know anything of it." At the end of his statement, his voice cracked and Hermione watched in wonderment and pity as tears leaked out of his eyes. Instinctively, the reached up and wiped away a single tear with her sleeve. His face made an expression that indicated flinching.

"Don't touch me! I don't want or need your pity." Hermione jerked her hand back as though she had been burned and her contempt for the pale boy returned full force. She scowled.

"Good. Because I'm not offering it." She, once again, placed the Full-Body Bind on Malfoy and left, throwing his wand into the bush she had been hiding behind earlier while on her way.

* * *

That was a year ago, to the day. For five years, Ron and I had stuck by Harry's side while he went on his quest to find a way to defeat Voldemort. Of course, he finally did, with very little help and plenty of motivation. I suppose after Dumbledore's death, Harry became obsessed with those Horcruxes and was just so determined to find them all. Of course, getting his revenge against Snape was just a little treat before fulfilling his life duty. Needless to say, although Snape was a teacher and I don't usually have bad things to say about them, I don't miss him one whit. 

Anyway, on that particular day, the day I ran into Malfoy for the first time in five years, Harry, Ron and I found ourselves stopping for rest in a small town right outside of London. The town was so small, in fact, that even now, I cannot remember the name of it. But we were just passing through while on our mission to find the last Horcrux on our list and only planned on stopping for lunch and a nap. We had just left the town pub and began to look for an inn when we saw him…Wormtail. Harry had froze on the spot, realizing that where there is one, there could possibly be another. We quickly turned and ran…straight into another Death Eater whose face was obscured by the hood he had pulled over his head. So we ran. Then, incidentally, I ran into Malfoy, in a sense.

Of course, at the time, I was still with Ron. Ron…my first love. He perished shortly after that day in Harry's final battle against Voldemort. Harry won, of course, with nary a scratch. He was able to claim back his first (and only) love, Ginny Weasley. Funny how that turned out…each of us taking up with members of the same family. They are now happily married with a baby on the way and they couldn't be happier…except for the fact that Ron isn't here to share their happiness with them. Or with me for that matter. The painting of Ron which the Ministry had given to both the Weasleys and the Potters (along with a medal declaring that Ron had been honored with an Order of Merlin, first class) is, admittedly, somewhat consoling. But there is only so much a two dimensional portrait can do for a person.

But I digress.

The focal point of this story was how I ended up with Draco Malfoy. Well, it all started on the day which had just been described to you. For the first time in my life, I had seen Malfoy cry actual tears. It gave me some hope that maybe all was not lost and Draco was just a lost and scared man. But I didn't think of it again until a few months later, when I came face-to-face with him again after the final battle was over, but still fresh in everyone's mind. I had just been recently released from St. Mungo's and was finally settled in my newly acquired flat merely ten blocks from the Potter's residence.

Then _he_ showed up at my door.

* * *

Hermione had just sat down to read when the buzzer went off. She sighed and padded over to the intercom located in the kitchen. Her bare feet hit the cold tile, reminding her that it was already well into October and she should be wearing socks. She pressed the button to speak into the intercom. 

"Are you from the Chinese restaurant?" she asked absently, one hand still holder her book, from which she was still reading.

"Er, yes," a deep male voice replied, but not sounding a bit Chinese. Hermione didn't stop to register this in her brain and simply buzzed the man in. she had settled back down, but not a minute later, a knock came at the door. Once again, Hermione sighed irritably and got up to answer it. She threw it open and revealed the person on the other end.

"Ron…" she breathed before fainting dead away.


	2. Draco's Prologue

_**Don't hate me! You guys have to understand that between two jobs, school, and my personal life, it's kind of hard to find time to update. Anywho, hope you enjoy!**_

**Listen to: **_An Honest Mistake_ - The Bravery_**  
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**Chapter 2  
Draco's Prologue**

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"_Purebloods never make mistakes,_" my father once told me while in a row about him wrongfully accusing me of raiding his liquor cabinet. It was, in fact, my mother who had done it.

"Purebloods never make mistakes, and even if they do, they never admit them." A lesson well learned when although my father realized that it wasn't I who drank all his firewhiskey, I still didn't receive so mush as an apology. Just another scolding where he was now angry that I had not been there to intervene.

But I am a big enough person to realize that I made a mistake. Many, actually. And all having to do with one person…a person who wasn't myself. One of my mistakes being taking a Polyjuice to look like Weasley when I came to see her. How was I to know that he had already "bit the dust," as Muggles say? For five years, I had done exactly as the Golden Trio had done…dropped out of Hogwarts and ran.

Here's another thing I'm admitting to: I'm a bloody coward. I didn't have the courage to kill Dumbledore and I sure as hell didn't have the courage to face the Dark Lord…my "master." So I did the only think I could think of. As soon as my feet touched ground after Disapparating from the chaos of sixth year, I ran. For years, I ran. The first place I went was back to Malfoy Manor where I had been raised. But it was only to find that it had been burned to the ground. Word travels fast within the Dark Wizarding community.

Knowing that other Death Eaters could appear anytime to get me, I quickly located the secret family vault under the rubble, taking as many valuables and money as I could. Then I ran again.

I ran for five years and ran straight into the biggest mistake of my life…

Hermione Granger.

* * *

Ron watched as Granger fainted, almost not understanding why. Then it hit him. He knelt down next to Hermione, waved his wand over her, muttering, "_Ennervate_." She blinked a couple of times, sat up and started at him in shock and wonder. She reached up to touch his cheek, but before flesh could meet flesh, he stopped her. 

"Wait," he said. She frowned.

"Ron, what –"

"I'm not Ron." She shook her head.

"Yes, you are. You're right here! I thought you were dead! I saw you fall after Bellatrix hit you with the Killing Curse. But you're here! Why –" Ron silenced her with a simple "_Silencio_." Hermione's mouth open and closed a couple of times before she realized what had happened, a perplexed look on her face. Probably due to his strange behavior, Ron supposed.

"I said, 'wait'." After a few moments, "Ron" felt his features changing. His hair was getting longer and lighter. His nose, shorter. His features became more angular. Finally, the transformation was finished and instead of Ron, Draco Malfoy sat in his place. He glanced up at Granger and noticed that her face had gone white, tears formed in her eyes.

"I told you…" he said quietly, almost feeling sorry for having shown up as her dead boyfriend. He knew he should have read the papers more.

"Oh…" She stared down at her hands as a single tear escaped, despite the fact that she was obviously trying so hard not to cry. Draco began to feel uncomfortable and stood, massaging his muscles. Weasley had been a lot taller than Draco and he felt as if he had been stretched out for the past hour.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked as she stood as well. The mournful expression that had been on her face only seconds before was now gone in exchange for the hatred which he knew so well from her. He then remembered why he was here and fidgeted nervously, raking a hand through his platinum blond hair.

"Granger, I need your help." It had been almost painful to say it, but he had nowhere else to turn.

"_My_ help? Why ever would you need help from me…a mere _Mudblood_?" Draco flinched.

"I deserved that. But I'll take it because you're my last hope."

"How do I know that this isn't a trick? How do I know that you're not just luring me into a trap so that you can take revenge for the defeat of your _Master_?" Even as she said the words, she gripped her wand tightly and glanced at Draco's own wand. Quite often. Draco sighed and dropped his wand at Granger's feet.

"There, see? I'm unarmed and completely vulnerable. You can even put me under the Body-Bind again." Draco thought he saw her mouth twitch at his last comment.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked again, but with less harshness than before.

"I just need a place to stay while look for my own," he finally stated.

"_Here_?"

"Yes. You see, you're the only one I can turn to. All my old – um – friends either died or were locked in Azkaban. And as it is, they wouldn't help me anyway. Lucius is still incarcerated, my mother perished when they destroyed by house. The only reason I stayed out of Azkaban myself was by admitting what a coward I was, running away like that. I only just barely got the Ministry to allow me access to the Malfoy account. And even with all that money, I can't bring myself to rebuild Malfoy Manor. I have no home, no job, no friends, but worst of all, no food." He gave a weak smile at that last attempt of humor in a humorless situation.

"But, Malfoy," Granger began, obviously thinking that it wasn't very funny after all. "Don't you have some other family? Aren't you related to Nymph –"

"Nymphadora Tonks?" he finished. She nodded enthusiastically, hoping he would try her, no doubt. He gave her a sad smile.

"I already asked." Granger's eyes went wide and, maybe, a bit sad, too.

"And she said no?" Actually, what Cousin Nymphadora had said that she wanted a bit of alone time with her new husband, the werewolf who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts in third year.

_"But," _she had added. _"If you really can't find anywhere else, I'm sure we can let you stay here."_ But Draco would not let Granger know that. There was no way in hell he was going to stay with the newlyweds.

"Yes, Granger, she turned away her own blood," he answered. He watched as the conflict fluttered across her face. She had a nice face, to be truthful. He shook that though away when she spoke again.

"Fine. You may stay." Draco exhaled a breath of relief. "But under some conditions." Of course. Hermione Granger, as he remembered, was a stickler for rules. Of course, in order to be a stickler for them, there'd have to _be_ some, and therefore, she'd have to make some up.

"Of course. And what would those conditions be?" He was just trying to be cute. He knew it wouldn't work, but it was worth a try, right? She crossed her arms over her chest…a cough rather nice one, he added to himself…and scowled at him. '_Well, I guess that answers that question,_' he thought. '_One cannot be _cute_ with Hermione Granger_.'

"One, no magic in the house," she said with a smirk, obviously thinking that that particular condition would scare him off. But he merely shrugged.

"Sounds fair." After all, when on is on the run, one cannot always rely on magic to help. Magic always left traces and he couldn't always afford to leave them. Hermione's smirk fell and she began to pace.

"Two, no funny business. No groping, touching, _ogling_…" Ah. So she _had_ seen him checking out her chest. "And no…no…just don't try to embarrass me in any way relative to the above." Draco smiled, amused at her behavior. She was most adorable when flustered.

'_Did I just think…'_

'Ah, just go with it!'

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you mid too much if I sat down? I have had quite an exhausting journey, as you can imagine."

"Oh! Right. Go on ahead." Draco took a seat on the sofa and, again, watched as Granger paced back and forth.

"Three. We're at three, yes?"

"Correct."

"Three, no bringing home girls." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Why? You'd get jealous?" Granger rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please, Malfoy. Don't flatter yourself."

"I was only joking, Granger. Jeez. Besides, I respect the fact that this is your house and I have you to consider. I wouldn't subject your virgin eyes and ears to such lewdness." Granger scowled.

"How sweet of you," she said sarcastically.

"Why, thank you." He grinned, causing her mouth to twitch again, but she held any other hints of a reciprocating smile back and continued on.

"Lastly, you can't lie to me, Malfoy. If I ask you something, you have to give me a straight answer."

"Why?" he exclaimed, a bit shocked to hear that last condition.

"Malfoy, I'm letting you share my home with me. I've trusted you enough for that. In return, all I ask is that you keep that trust and let me have yours as well. And that means no secrets."

"But what if there are some thinks I'd rather not talk about?"

"I'm sure there are, Malfoy. There are many things I'm not sure I want to share with you, either. Tell you what…I'll make a deal with you. If either of us confide in the other one of those big secrets, the other would owe one in return. Sound fair?" Draco pondered this for a moment. Draco had only ever confided his innermost feeling to one person: Moaning Myrtle…and she was a ghost.

"Anything I tell you, you would keep to yourself?" he asked, still skeptical.

"You have my word. And if I did, you could just as easily tell someone about what I tell you, so I wouldn't risk it." Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Fine. I accept all conditions especially enforcing number four." Granger smiled and Draco was awestruck for a moment. She had never smiled at him before.

"Of course," she continued, shaking out of his daze. "So, I guess all there is to say to make yourself at home."

* * *

Home. 

When she had said that one word, I started. I had not had a home in so long, I almost forgot they existed. I saw houses, yes, and even stayed in some old or abandoned ones. But an actual _home_ in which I belonged? A home I could return to every night? I hadn't realized how much I missed it until I felt my eyes beginning to sting, threatening to fill with tears.

* * *

"Granger, may I use your bathroom?" Draco asked to her retreating back. 

"Of course. Down the hall, first door to the left. By the way, your room is the door to the right."

"Thank you." Draco hurried down the hall, to the bathroom, turning the taps so cold water rushed out of the faucet. He let it run for a while, regaining his composure before cleaning himself up. He used his wand to shave the stubble off his face, clean his teeth and fix his hair so it didn't look so wind swept. He took a deep breath before exiting again and headed towards the kitchen.

Granger sat at the kitchen table clutching a picture of Ron Weasley in her hands. Tears fell silently down her face and onto the glass frame, the photo-Weasley smiling and waving, oblivious to Granger's sorrow.

"I love you," she whispered. Draco backed out of the room before she noticed him, a bit embarrassed of having intruded upon such a private moment.

_Love_.

It was a work he rarely used and almost never heard. His mother, who had not been big on words and instead adopted the theory that 'actions speak louder than words', surely loved him. He loved her, too, of course. He supposed he loved his father as well. But as for the kind of love he had just witnessed, where one person believes another to be part of their destiny, soul mates and all that, two souls coming together to bond as one…

That love, he knew nothing of.

Granger cam out of the kitchen, wiping at her cheeks. Draco acted as if he hadn't seen what happened in the kitchen.

"Granger –"

"Hermione."

"What?" Granger sat down in the easy chair, curling her feet under herself.

"Hermione…that's my name. Call me 'Hermione'."

"Right. Gra – er – Hermione. Do you think it would be much trouble for you to accompany me to the nearest shop so I could find some clothes? All I have with me are the ones I'm wearing now." She smiled. Yes, she did have a very nice smile, but it never quite reached her eyes. There was a great sadness in those big, brown eyes.

"Of course. We could go now. Just let me get my coat."

* * *

To say that it was awkward is an understatement. Hermione Granger was an annoying know-it-all and Harry Potter's best friend to boot. Hermione Granger was now my only life line. She had become the key person in my survival with a few simple words. But underneath that awkwardness, there was an undercurrent of something else. It was that undercurrent that kept us from killing each other. I'm still not sure what it is and perhaps I'll never know. 

What I do know, now, anyway, is that it was a mistake to have ever gone to Hermione's in the first place. I don't regret the great time we shared, and yes, there were fights, which sometimes even ended in us having drawn our wands pointing them at each other's throats. But those memories only make the pain greater now.

I lived with Hermione for six months. It is amazing what can happen in six months. After a while, that awkwardness started to dissipate and all that was left was that undercurrent. And trust. There was a lot of trust. I learned to trust Hermione and we were able to talk about everything freely. We had that understanding and I knew she would have never laughed at me. By the end of the third month, we had shared everything. I was happier and it seemed that she was too. She trusted me as much as I trusted her, had poured out her soul, her emotions, her thoughts. She quickly became my best friend. But although she trusted me implicitly, there was still a part of me that I couldn't trust her with. A part that fought against her more and more with each passing day, week, month…

My heart.


	3. Laugh Now, Cry Later

**Chapter 3  
Laugh Now, Cry Later

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Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

I usually despise clichéd catch phrases, but this one fits. Looking back on the situation, I realize that the moment I messed up was the moment I let Draco Malfoy into my home…my life…my heart. That day, while Draco was in the bathroom, I pulled out my framed picture of Ron and silently asked him to forgive me for caring, for mistaking Malfoy as my sweet Ron, and most of all, for noticing how good-looking Malfoy had become.

As I walked back to the living room, I told myself that having Malfoy around was not a good idea at all and I had changed my mind. But then I saw him, his gaze fixed on a picture of Harry, Ron, and me from a much happier time. His earlier words came back to me.

_"All my old – um- friends either died or were locked in Azkaban."_

_"You're the only one I can turn to."_

It must be horrible to be as alone as that man who had stood before me. It must be worse to know that the only person who you can turn to was someone you hated very much.

"Granger," he had addressed me.

"Hermione," I had replied, coming to a split second decision that even if I was not Draco's best friend…or friend at all, come to think of it, I'd still try to help him the best I could.

First on the agenda…shopping.

* * *

The first stop was, or course, Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He kept his head down and was very nervous about being back in the Wizarding World again. Hermione never felt so much sadness for another being in her life, houseelves included. They were able to get money quickly, but Draco surprised her by asking to change a large sum of money for Muggle money. 

"What are you doing?" she asked him as they walked back out.

"Well, in order to shop in the Muggle world, I'll need Muggle money, right?" he reasoned.

"Yes, but that still does not explain _why_ you're going to shop in the Muggle world. Aren't you Draco _Muggles-are-beneath-me_ Malfoy?"

"Actually, my middle name is Lucius and…" He fell silent and looked away from her. "There's nothing for me here anymore."

She said nothing in reply and walked through the door as he held it open. There was nothing she _could _say, really. They continued to walk back towards the Leaky Cauldron, passing all the shops and their patrons going about business happily. Occasionally, a passerby would notice Draco and Hermione and did one of several things: a) nod politely at Hermione, recognizing and acknowledging her as one of he greatest contributors to the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; b) look at the pair of them strangely, for it was odd that a former Death Eater and Muggle-born would be seen together, especially a Malfoy; c) scowl at Draco, or the worst of all, d) they would do something terribly rude, such as spitting straight at Draco's face or something of the sort. At that last item, Hermione would tell that person, regardless of age (or size, for that matter, as that last man was almost as big as Hagrid), to bugger off and pull away Draco, who gave a look that said, "See what I mean?" As soon as they got back to Muggle London, Hermione stopped and looked at Draco.

"Malfoy, I'm so sor—" she started.

"Don't, Hermione. Don't apologize for them. They have every right—"

"No, they don't Draco!" Hermione knew that she sounded a little too much like she…_cared_…but…but…she did, damn it! She did bloody well care about what happened back there. It was just plain sad and she couldn't bear to watch it all happen. That was too much, even for Malfoy.

"No one had the right to treat another human being in such a…a…horrifyingly disgusting manner," she continued. "It was rude and terrible and-and none of them know what you've b-been through. A-and…" She couldn't continue any longer as tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and cried for Draco, who had simply taken every low blow in, the sadness growing in his eyes. She never realized how cruel people could be.

Then she felt it a pair of strong arms come around her, pulled her into a gentle embrace. She looked up into Draco's face and gasped. Draco was crying, too! She smiled and wiped his tears away. She experienced a wave of déjà vu as she remembered doing that once before. She laughed.

"Thank you, Hermione."

"For what?"

"For caring."

* * *

At that moment, I realized two things: 1) I had called him "Draco" for the first time, and 2) Draco was human, and not some other, reptilian life-form impersonating a man, as he had formerly led on. He had feelings; he just hid them most of the time. At that point, I knew that he was okay. He still had not proven he was exactly trustworthy, but he wasn't as bad as before. And that was a start.

* * *

Hermione and Draco continued on with their day, choosing to forget about what had happened in Diagon Alley. Yes, it was a touching moment as well as a milestone, but it was too early for them to talk about it without feeling awkward or embarrassed. 

They had shopped of course, and shopped well. Draco turned out to have good taste when it came to clothing as well as a great talent at finding good bargains. They returned home wit their arms full of merchandise, but their wallets still half full.

"All in all, it was a great day," Hermione said, flopping down on the sofa. "Don't you think, Malfoy?"

"Yes, it was," he replied without emotion. Hermione began to frown and was about to ask what was wrong when he interrupted.

"I'm going to shower, then put the new sheets on my bed," he announced. She shut her mouth, knowing when a subject was off limits to discussion, and nodded. He walked away and it wasn't until she heard the shower come on did she move.

She began to arrange the bags in one corner of the room, but then decided she would put the clothes away for Draco. She needed something to do, anyway. She brought all the bags to his room and as she did so, felt some giddiness overcome her as she realized how domestic it all seemed. She quickly pushed that thought out of her mind and just pulled out the items, one by one.

She had only gotten so far as to put the sheets on the bed when the door suddenly opened to reveal Draco Malfoy only clothed in a short towel low on his hips.

Hermione's first thought was, '_Mon Dieu! I must look like an idiot!_' Of course, that thought was followed by, '_Oh. My. God. Where in the bloody blazes did he get a body like **that**?'_ They both stood in still silence for what seemed like an eternity to Hermione.

_Say something, you idiot!_

**_I can't._**

_He must think you're an even bigger idiot now. Say something! Anything!_

"What are you doing here?"

_Of all the moronic…_

**_That wasn't me!_**

Hermione blinked as she realized that Draco had spoken.

"Um…I was putting away your clothes for you." Hermione looked down at her hands and realized that she was holding a pack of boxer briefs. She blushed so hard she swore even her eyeballs were tinted red. Draco chuckled and took the package from her hands, setting it down on a nearby dresser.

"I think I can handle it from here." She nodded and made a move to exit the room and avoid any further embarrassment. But she stopped her again, taking a hold of her shoulders. She looked into his eyes, questioningly.

"Malfoy, what…" She trailed off as he placed a soft and hesitant kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks again, Hermione. You don't know how much this means to me." She smiled.

"You're very welcome." She turned towards the door and almost made it out when his voice stopped her again.

"And call me Draco."

* * *

And that was the start of my roller coaster of a ride with Draco Malfoy. There were ups and downs; it was exciting, thrilling, and scary all at the same time. And at the end, all you feel is nausea and thought along the lines of, "I can't believe I did that." You feel regret for doing something that crazy, but for some reason, you want to do it again. Maybe it's because deep down, you know you had fun. 

Because I _did_ have fun with Draco. Our relationship was anything but normal. He was an ex-Death Eater and I was Harry Potter's best friend. He was a Pureblood, I was Muggle-born. We fought a lot of the time about the smallest things, but still managed to coexist in one tiny apartment without killing each other.

The first three months or so, we got to know on another. And I slowly began to fall for him. It wasn't anything he did, really. If I had to admit to anything, it would be that I didn't guard my heart. I let him in and I let myself fall for him. I was always a sucker for poor, pitiful creatures. Case in point, SPEW. But Draco had the saddest childhood I had ever heard of. Harry's included. While the Dursleys practically ignored Harry and left him to his own devices, Draco was always being picked on by his power-driven father. His mother spoiled him, yes, but could not so much as hug him when he was scared or hurt. She had never even told him that she loved him, even though she "compensated" with gifts and such.

"But sometimes, you just need to hear the words, you know?" he had told me. And, yes, I do know.

It is the same way I feel about him now.

Yes, my time with Draco was fun, but the fun thing isn't always the right thing or the smart thing to do.


	4. Falling

_**Hello, all you wonderful people! Here's chapter four for you. Don't forget to tell me what you think!**_

**Listen to: **_Suddenly _- Billy Ocean_**  
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**Chapter 4  
Falling

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Have you ever had one of those dreams where you're falling and then right before you hit the ground, you wake up with a start and realize it was just a dream? That's how it was when I had realized that I had started to fall for Hermione. For months, I kept falling…

And falling…

And falling…until I woke up, realized that I loved her, but the last months previous were all a dream. I could never have a life with Hermione. Not a normal one, anyway. It was just impossible.

But sometimes, as I've been reminding myself lately, dreams can come true. And although I am pessimistic by nature, there is still that tiny glimmer of hope, that silver lining in my gray storm cloud, that maybe, just this once, fate would work in my favor.

Until then, all I have are the fond memories.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Hermione greeted as she Apparated into the living room with a loud crack. Draco came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, flour all over his hands. He smiled as she looked at him curiously. 

"Hermione, do you know what today is?" he asked, his eyes sparkling mysteriously.

"Switched Domestic Roles Day?" she inquired, one eyebrow raised, motioning at his physical state. He rolled his eyes and flashed Hermione a trademark smirk.

"Cute, but no. Come see." Draco led Hermione into the kitchen and there, sitting on top of the counter was Draco's project.

"A cake? Whatever for?" she inquired. She peered down at the shiny green icing, spelling out the words, "Happy Four Months of Cohabitation." She smiled.

"Draco…" she whispered. Then, suddenly, something in him reacted. He heard the way she breathily said his name and imagined how his name would sound as she moaned it while in the throes of passion. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. He and Hermione were friends, now. He couldn't think like that.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Draco." She stepped forward and embraced him. Draco was caught off guard and felt every curve on Hermione's body fit perfectly against his. She was warm and comforting and he liked the way her small arms wrapped around his neck. He closed his eyes and sniffed her hair. Strawberries and cream plus a scent, which he associated with Hermione alone. He tucked away the moment in his memory, then pulled away from her.

"No, Hermione. Thank you." He lightly grasped her hand in his. "You could have thrown me out onto the street to let me die and rot, but you did not. You took me into your home and became my friend. For that, I am eternally grateful and incredibly indebted to you. I want to be able to someday make it all up to you, so I thought I'd start tonight."

"Draco, you don't have to do that. I like having you here."

"Ah, but did you at first?" Draco knew he had hit a sore spot when she flinched as if he had moved to strike her. He knew she hated to be reminded of her momentary reluctance to help him. In her opinion, all that really mattered was that she did.

But it wasn't as if he wasn't grateful. He let her know every chance he got that he could never thank her enough for what she was doing for him. And besides, he was only joking about that last comment. He immediately regretted it, though, when he saw her eyes begin to tear up. He frowned and step forward, patting her on the shoulder and wiping away a stray tar that had finally fallen and streaked down her face.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. I was only joking, love. You know that I'm eternally thankful for what you're doing and there isn't anyway I could possibly repay you." He held her at arms length and looked into her eyes. "You've become my best friend and I owe you my life, Hermione. I don't even care about the beginning or Hogwarts or anything that happened before." Finally, she smiled.

"Oh, Draco…you've become my best friend, as well." Her smiled grew brighter. "Even though you haven't found a job yet, therefore coming up with you part of the rent." He returned her smiled, suddenly remembering the other reason for celebrating.

"That reminds me. We're also celebrating because I _did_ get a job." Her eyes sparkled and filled with pride and excitement. Draco's stomach did a funny flip-flop, which caught him by surprise. He ignored it, deciding that it was probably the food he had last ate.

"Draco, that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and tiptoed to give him a quick peck on the cheek. It took all his self-control to refrain from blushing, even though the spot burned where her lips had been.

'_Good God. What in Merlin's name is going on? What's happening to me?'_ He thought.

"So, where do you work? I wasn't even aware that you had gone on an interview."

"I wanted to keep it secret and surprise you," he answered. But secretly, he also would not have been able to stand it if he had not qualified for a job he had applied for and then have to _tell_ Hermione? '_No, thanks. I think I'll save myself the humiliation._' Hermione pulled away from him and began opening cabinets, searching.

"What are you looking for?" he asked. Instead of answering, she emerged from one last cabinet, exclaiming, "Aha!"

"I was saving this for the right moment." In her hand, she held a bottle of wine…never opened. It looked to be a very nice bottle…expensive.

"It's not that big of a deal," he heard himself say. But it was too late. She had already pulled off the cork with a loud, _Pop!_

"Of coure it's a big deal! Don't try to be modest, it doesn't suit you." He smirked at that. True, he was always known as an arrogant and cocky prat, but he felt so detached from who he used to be. He _needed_ to be detached from who he was before. The past was something the simply wanted to forget.

He watched as Hermione pulled down two wine glasses and poured out the drinks. She turned to him and gave him a dazzling smile, some unfamiliar emotion twinkling in her eyes. What was it? He smiled back, still trying to figure her out. Then it hit him…_pride_. Hermione was proud of him and that did something funny to his insides. All his life, he had tried so hard to receive that exact thing from his father, only to fall short of Lucius's high expectations every time. And now, here it was. Hermione gave it to him so easily, not even asking what kind of job he got.

"Aren't you going to ask me abut my new job?" he asked. Why he asking it, he wasn't sure. But he did know that once she found out what job he finally managed to snag, she was going to immediately take back her offer of a toast. Damn, but did that depress him.

"Toast first, details later."

"But what if—"

"Draco Malfoy, it doesn't matter if you got a job as a prime minister or a busboy. All that matters is you got one. Now…" She raised her glass. "I propose a toast. Congratulations, Draco, for obtaining your new job." The clinked glasses and he smiled into his drink. That was one of the things he was beginning to like the most about Hermione; no matter what, she accepted him for who he was and appreciated that he was trying so very hard to make it on his own, without his father's influence. It was also something he still had to get used to.

"Now, tell me about your new job," she said, setting down her glass. Draco swirled the contents of his own glass, looking into the red liquid.

"Like I said, it's not much. After all, I'm in the Muggle World, now, and I can't very well use any of my Hogwarts education here…" Hermione sighed loudly.

"Draco, you're stalling."

"I know." Hermione gave him a look. "All right…I got a job as a women's show salesman." Hermione tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. Draco sighed and looked into the glass once more.

"I told you it wasn't that big of a deal," he mumbled glumly, feeling a tinge of what he could only describe as embarrassment. And that made him angry at Hermione. **Nobody** embarrassed Draco Malfoy and got away with it. But before he could do so much as snarl at Hermione she spoke.

"Do you have a foot fetish?" Draco blinked a couple of times, shocked by her question. Was she mad? She stared at him for a couple more seconds before breaking into a dazzling smile.

"Draco, I'm joking!" She laughed. And it was infectious; he smiled and laughed, too. Then, she came forward and embraced him again, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"And that's wonderful. I'm glad you got a job." Draco embraced her back and looked down at her.

* * *

And it was at that moment that I fell. That one, significant point in time where I looked into her big, brown eyes and finally realized that I loved her. It wasn't like anything I've ever experienced before. It's like…missing the last stair and stumbling a bit…only to trip and fall down another flight. Ok, not a good analogy. It's like…getting hit in the gut with a Bludger. All the wind rushed out of me and it was totally not expected. And just like in a Quidditch game, I knew going in that it was a possibility, that it might happen, but it still didn't prepare me for when the Bludger actually hit. 

Anyway, I looked in her eyes, realized I finally fell in love with her and did what instinct told me to do.


	5. Unspoken Words

_**Wow! Six pages, guys! I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it. I'm on a roll! Don't forget to review! Your comments make me feel special :)**_

**Listen to:** _I Hate Everything About You _- Three Days Grace

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**Chapter 5  
Unspoken Words

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The moment his eyes met mine, I knew he was going to kiss me. What I didn't know was how much passion would be in that kiss. It wasn't as if I hadn't kissed a bloke before, but with Draco, it was different. With Draco, I not only felt desire and lust. I also felt something else…like he filled this empty spot I didn't know was there. It scared me and thrilled me at the same time. And I needed more. Wanted more.

But I never quite got it.

* * *

Hermione's hands trailed up Draco's chest and wrapped themselves around his neck, holding on tight. She knew that this should feel wrong, kissing Draco, her ex-archenemy, but it didn't feel anything of the sort. She left connected to Draco. Like this was where she was supposed to be. Like maybe… 

Like maybe she was in love with him.

The absolute, head-over-heels, can't eat, can't sleep kind of love. Maybe. She pulled away and opened her mouth to _maybe_ tell him, but he spoke first.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling away, a panicked look in his eyes.

'_No!'_ she thought. '_I'm _not_ sorry! Come back!' _But all she could do was nod. He continued to back out of the kitchen, his eyes never leaving hers. It wasn't until she heard the door slam that she started and realized he was gone.

* * *

It was one of the scariest days of my entire life. 

First, I realized that sometime during our mundane eat-sleep-work-talk-about-our-pasts routine, I had _maybe_ fallen in love with my flatmate. Ok, I did fall in love with my flatmate. Then, quite suddenly, said flatmate had run out on me. Alone. In Muggle London. Without as much as a wand on him.

And then I panicked.

* * *

Hermione looked around wildly and thought about what she should do. But seeing as she was so distraught. She couldn't think about anything other than the fact that the man she had just found out she had foolishly fallen in love with could be maimed and lying bleeding in some dark alley. 

_'Oh, God. I _really_ shouldn't have thought that.' _She began to hyperventilate.

_Hermione!_ her mind screamed. Funny…her mind sounded a lot like…

"Ron?"

_Calm down and snap out of it! _her conscience (or _was_ it Ron?) ordered briskly. Her breathing slowed.

_Ok, are we calm?_

"Y-yes," Hermione answered timidly also thinking that she had finally lost it and she was ready for the loony bin.

_Stop thinking like that. I'm here to tell you what to do. _She nodded, clinging to his every word.

_Ok, Hermione. I want you to go to the Heffalone and call the…the…what do they call them? Please-men?_

"Police? Call the police."

_Right_. She did. But what to tell them? "_Hi, my name is Hermione Granger and I'm calling to say that I scared off the man that I just realized I'm in love with. Do you think you can find him for me?"_

_No, you silly bird._

"Just who are you calling a bird?"

_You. Listen. Tell them that your husband walked out after a fight and you just want to make sure he's ok. It's the only way they'll move at all and also the only way they'll let you stay in the hospital with him._

"But I thought I'm sending the police out to make sure he's ok! Not to see if he's been admitted to a hospital!"

_Just in case, Hermione._

As if on autopilot, she repeated what conscience-Ron told her. The nice, friendly constable said he'd alert the patrol cars to look for him. "He couldn't have gone far," he had reassured her. She thanked him, gave him her address and sat on the sofa to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

She just about dozed off when the buzzer rang. She pressed a shaking finger on the intercom.

"Y-yes?"

"Mrs. Malfoy?" an unfamiliar voice asked. It took her a moment to respond. _'Oh, right. That's me.'_

"Yes…"

"I'm from the London Police Department and I've found your husband." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank y—"

"But…" _But? _Dread filled her.

"You're going to have to come with me." Fear and panic overwhelmed her again.

"Come where?" Her voice was beginning to shake.

"The hospital. He's been beaten pretty badly."

* * *

It was like I was losing Ron all over again. Except this was much worse. Draco didn't even know that I loved him. Silent tears streamed down my face as I rode in the passenger seat of the squad car. I policeman politely kept silent and did not ask questions, but I felt him glance worriedly at me every once in a while. 

We reached the hospital and I was escorted to a waiting room, praying to God with all my might that Draco would be all right.

* * *

After what seemed an eternity, a doctor called for Hermione. 

"What is it? What's happened?" The doctor escorted her to a more private area to talk.

"It was a wizard hit." Hermione shook her head, confused.

"Are you…" the doctor nodded.

"I'm a wizard, Mrs. Malfoy, as I am very sure you are, too. There are several of us in this hospital. Most paramedics are Healers as well and can send the patients with Wizard-type aliments to me. Precautions taken since You-Know-Who, you understand." Hermione nodded and waited for the doctor to continue.

"Draco was been hit with a few nasty curses, but nothing life-threatening." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief

"However, I would advise him not to go out at night, unarmed, no less, if I were you. There are quite a few wizards who would like very much to hurt Mr. Malfoy. In fact, I was under the impression that he was…er…dead. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the world." _'Only one world, anyway,'_ Hermione thought.

"No, he was here all along," Hermione said instead. "But please, don't tell. He's determined to stay out of the Wizarding World." The doctor nodded.

"I understand." He looked at Hermione seriously for a moment. "Unless, of course, he's in some kind of trouble. In which case, I'm going to have to turn him in." Hermione shook her head.

"No. He as barely involved in the war at all and spent most of the time in hiding. But even so…the Wizarding World is not a friendly place for a Malfoy." She suddenly felt sad for Draco. And loved him even more. She wanted to help him. She needed to see him.

"May I see him now?" she asked.

"Oh! Yes, of course. He's sleeping, now, and probably won't be awake 'til morning. You may stay, if you like." She nodded and followed the doctor to Draco's room. Just as the doctor said, Draco was asleep. He turned to leave, but before doing so, he put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"By the way, I think that's really beautiful how you both found love in each other, putting all differences and everything in the past aside. It gives me hope for the future. Like maybe there is hope of peace after all."

Hermione sat stunned minutes after the doctor's departure. After a long while, she pulled her chair up to Draco's beside. She picked up his cold hand and let out a dry sob. There were no more tears to cry. She rested her head on her arm, which rested next to his hip and continued to heave dry sobs, repeating the words "I'm sorry" over and over again. What she was sorry for, she couldn't really say. Maybe for having scared him off. For not having told him that she was in love with him. For not having run after him. For him getting hurt. For all those things. She just felt like everything was her fault. Finally, she fell asleep.

That night, she dreamt she was at Hogwarts again. It was in shambles. Fire and destruction were everywhere. She felt so much sorrow for all that was lost. And then, out of the smoke-filled sky came a beautiful, majestic green dragon. It flew towards Hermione and offered her its back for her to ride on. She climbed on carefully and they flew off from the sorrow and destruction. She laughed as the wind blew through her hair and the sunlight hit her face.

"I'm free…" she murmured. And then she awoke.

She looked around to take in her surroundings. The sun was shining through the hospital window and Draco was still asleep. But she assumed that the sleeping potion must have worn off since his position had changed. She looked down at their laced fingers. He was squeezing her fingers back lightly and it was no longer cold. She smiled, relieved that he was getting better and lifted up her other hand to brush the hair away from his face. He must have felt the touch because he then began to stir.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinked a couple of times and gazed back into Hermione's face. He smiled.

"Good morning," she said quietly.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"In the hospital. Do you remember what happened?" A dark look crossed over his face. He remained silent for a few moments.

"Draco?"

"Yes, I remember," he whispered. She simply nodded and continued to stroke his hair. There was time later to ask questions.

"Well, I'm glad that you're all right." He smiled and said nothing. He looked out the window absentmindedly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. It was only then that she realized she still held his. She stared at him while his attention was diverted and noted the faraway look in his eye.

'_I would give a million galleons to know what he's thinking,_' she thought.

* * *

For the rest of that day, I remembered Draco being unusually quiet. Something in him had obviously changed. Usually, I would have chalked his behavior up to exhaustion and wait until the next day before expecting his usual, sunny, sarcastic self. 

But he _didn't_ return to his usual, sunny, sarcastic self. He started to withdraw from me and I didn't know why. He started work, would leave to the metro before I even had my first cup of coffee and come home later after having a few drinks with some new friends he had made. Not to mention the _dates_ he went on. It was the dating that began to anger me. There was no other word for it. I was jealous.

Soon, I began to withdraw as well. I had stopped trying to make conversation with him. The most we'd say to each other was "hello" and "goodbye." It broke my heart. Sometimes, I would be so frustrated, I'd cry. And I still loved him. Each night he came home after a date, I'd avoid him, go straight to my room and cry or throw something or do something equally childish.

A month passed. Then the arguing began.

I don't know how it came to all that. All I remember is that each night, I grew more and more furious with Draco and more and more heartbroken at the same time. I was losing him. There was one particular night, I was feeling extra irritated after he came home late – again – after another date.

* * *

"Where were you?" Hermione demanded as Draco walked through the door. Draco simply shrugged and began to head towards his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Then she saw it. 

"Stop right there, Malfoy!" He stopped abruptly at the use of his surname. Hermione barely noticed; she was that livid.

"What, _Granger_?" he spat back. It only served to make her even angrier. She marched right up to him and turned out his collar.

"What the hell is this?" Right there, on his pale, white skin, were the smudges of what seemed to be Ruby Red lipstick. In fact…

"Oh my, God!" she exclaimed as she yanked open his shirt. Lo and behold, the lipstick marks were on his torso and who knew where else. Draco pulled his shirt back and continued on down the hallways with Hermione hot on his heels.

"Who was she?" she demanded.

"You don't know her," he answered back, going through the motions of getting ready for a shower.

"How long have you been seeing her?" Draco pulled off his shit and headed for the bathroom, towel in hand.

"Tonight was our first date, actually." Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Your first…but that's…"

"How very articulate f you, Granger," he said with his signature smirk that she had not seen in ages. Why was it making reappearance now? She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are scum, Malfoy."

"So says the Mudblood."

**SMACK!**

The sound of her palm hitting his cheek echoed in the room. The silence stretched for an eternity before he spoke again.

"Don't you ever touch me again, Granger." His voice was quiet, but shaky and full of emotion.

"Well, who says I want to, Malfoy?" He smirked.

"I say."

"What?"

"You heard me. I mean, why else would you have stayed in the hospital with me? Calling yourself "Mrs. Malfoy." Ha! As if I'd ever marry you." Hermione shook with such a fury she had never felt before. Not even when they were students.

"Get out," she said.

"I was just leaving."

"No. I mean **out**." Fear flickered in his eyes before returning to their cool state.

"We had an agreement, though, Granger. And I seem to remember you being a woman of your word."

"Well, my word had changed and I want you out." She started to leave.

"But, I have no where to go!" he yelled after her, panic starting to come into his tone.

"Not my problem," she yelled back without turning. Suddenly she felt him tug at her arm.

"Please, Hermione. I'm sorry. But not yet…don't turn me out yet. I have no where to go. And I can't wander the streets by myself anymore. Look what happened last…time…" And eerie quiet came over both of them as they remembered that night. Images of Draco lying pale in the hospital bed with tubes sticking out of his body sprang to her mind. She closed her eyes to try and dispel the thoughts and memories. She pulled away from him, needing to get away from his touch, needing to feel hate for him again, but the images wouldn't go away. She put her head in her hands, trying to hold her tears in, but it was n use. She looked up and saw that same haunted look cross his face as the one he wore the morning after in his hospital bed.

"Tell me what's wrong, Draco," she whispered. Her voice seemed to shake him back and his gaze turned cold again.

"Nothing." With that, he turned around and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

* * *

He frustrated me so much, but I knew his behavior had something to do with that night. But he either wouldn't or couldn't tell me what was wrong. At the time, I only thought it was the former rather than the latter. 

After that argument, he just made himself scarcer. He didn't come home with lipstick marks anymore and it certainly didn't seem as if he went on dates anymore. But it didn't look as if he went out with friends, either. Each night, he kept coming home later and later, not even having the energy to glare at me. Then one night, I was in bed and Draco came into my room. He must have thought I was asleep because he carefully climbed into bed next to me and pulled me close, my back pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he had said. "One day, you'll understand why this was for the best." Tear threatened to fall down my cheeks and all my frustrated question were itching to roll off my tongue. But I continued to feign sleep, wanting and needing to hear more.

"Each day since that day in the hospital has been agonizing for me, Hermione. You don't know how much it pained for me to have to hurt you. But I had to. It'll be easier this way. I need for you to hate me, even though it's tearing me apart." He tightened his hold and kissed my head.

"_I love you, Hermione_."

And with those words, I knew that he'd be gone in the morning.


	6. Paranoia and Goodbye

**Listen to: **_Hysteria - _Muse

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**Chapter 6  
Paranoia and Goodbye

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**

I still have a scar from that night. It's on my right side, right below my ribs. I don't know what spell it was that hit me, but it bloody hurt when it happened. As I lay in that ditch, darkness slowly devouring me, I thought of Hermione and how beautiful she was. But, alas, I knew it could never be. Even if by some unusual twist of fate she ended up loving me back, I knew I could never be enough for her. She was still connected to the Magical World. I knew how much she loved it. Sometimes, when she thought I wasn't looking, I'd catch her waving her wand around just to see it spark with magic and remind her how lucky she was to have been able to experience it. And then there was me, who wanted as little to do with the world in which I had been raised as possible. In that area, we would never be able to get around that. How would we raise our children? The Muggle way or the Wizarding way? Merlin, listen to me! I'm already talking about children! You see what loving Hermione has done to me?

Anyway, on top of all that, there was still a risk in being involved with me. That night was the proof.

* * *

'_I am such an idiot!_' Draco scolded himself as he walked further and further away from his and Hermione's flat. '_No, it's just _her_ flat. Not mine. You don't _have_ a home to call yours, remember, Draco?_' He scowled bitterly. As if he needed to be reminded. 

"_Make yourself at home." _The words that Hermione had uttered months ago came rushing back to him. But he still would not let them affect him in anyway. '_It wasn't as if she really meant them. It was just a figure of speech. Why would she want to share her home with me? In fact, why would I _want_ her to want to share her home with me? She's just a stupid Mud…_'

He stopped. He couldn't do it. In truth, she wasn't stupid; she was the most intelligent person he knew. She wasn't dirty; she was as pure as the fresh fallen snow. She was perfect. It was _him_ who had the flaws. He groaned and sat down on the bus stop bench, putting his head in him hands.

"What am I going to do?"

Suddenly, the little light he had from the buzzing street lamp overhead was blocked by a big, burly shadow.

"Well, if it isn't the little Malfoy…" Draco looked up. The man's face was obscured and he couldn't quite place who this person was. He stood, discreetly feeling for his wand. It wasn't there. '_Damn!' _he thought vehemently.

"Yes? May I help—" He was cut off as the burly figure punched him in the stomach. Draco let out a quiet "oomph!" as the wind was knocked out of him. As he was doubled over, the burly man elbowed him in the back, knocking him down. The man let out a cold laugh.

"I always promised myself that I'd make you pay for turning your back against the Dark Lord."

"Perfect," Draco drawled. "Just as I thought my situation couldn't get any worse, I run into a supporter of Voldemort." The man pushed Draco into the wall of a nearby building.

"Don't you dare say his name! You are not worthy to utter it." Draco raised an eyebrow. Although he was keeping a cool exterior, inside, he was shaking in his Italian leather boots.

"Well, it hardly matters now, does it? The man…or whatever that monstrosity was…is dead, is he not?" A millisecond later, another blow was delivered to his face, blood streaming onto his white oxford shirt.

"_I_ _know, _Malfoy. Unless you want your Mudblood girlfriend dead, I suggest you keep quiet."

* * *

I'll admit it. 

I'm a bloody coward.

Instead of fighting back, I allowed the man to hurt me. All for a girl who didn't even love me back.

When I came to, I was in a dimly lit room, tubes running in and out of my body. I almost panicked when I felt someone squeeze my hand lightly. And then I saw her there. Hermione, who had been asleep at that moment, had stayed with me the whole night. But I didn't look too much into it. She probably did it out of obligation. I was living with her, so she felt responsible for making sure I came back in one piece before she scolded me about going out unprotected. It was one of the things you can always count on with Hermione and also one of the things I loved most about her.

But then again...her very presence with me in the hospital spoke volumes more than any words or any other action could have. I mean, she could have just checked up on me and went home when she was sure the doctors were taking care of me. But she didn't. She stayed with me all night, in what looked like a very uncomfortable chair, holding my hand, for Merlin's sake. A balloon of...what was it..._hope_ filled me up and threatened to lift me up, up, up to where all the other unfortunate fellows who believed in hope and happiness and _love_ went. It wasn't a bad feeling, which scared me even more, making me realize how soft I really had become. _Damn it all! _I felt good, for once. It was nice to not feel like I had to put on a façade for anyone. I felt like someone, _Hermione Granger_, of all people, cared about me, despite our rocky relationship in our years at Hogwarts and despite the fact that she was only just beginning to know me. And then that gave me hope that maybe it _could_ work out between us.

But then the man's words came back to me, immediately deflating my balloon.

"_I know, Malfoy…_"

He knew. If he knew, who knew how many else were out there that knew? (Did that make any sense?) I couldn't put her in that kind of danger. So, I hurt her.

At first, it was hard. I couldn't bring myself to hurt her right away, so I simply tried my best to avoid her. Then, I began to fabricate stories of going out on dates. And they worked! But it just about killed me. I'd pass her room and hear her throwing things, yelling obscenities directed towards me, but the worst was the crying.

I always knew when she was crying when I couldn't hear a sound. I would have to press my ear up to her door. On those nights, I would stand there, listening to her muffled sobs. I considered it punishment for what I was doing to her. I deserved it.

I never thought about _why_ she was crying. I'd rather not. I've learned that hoping doesn't get me very far. Hoping only sets me up for disappointment. And I've had too much of that in my life.

Then there was that last argument. I looked into her eyes and I thought I _knew_. I knew she had feelings for me. I felt my heart swell in my chest, it was such an overwhelming feeling and it would have been so easy to give in to it. Give in to her. But I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

I wasn't going to put her in danger. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if something happened to her. And I finally admitted it…

I was crazy in love with this girl. Absolutely, head-over-heels, can't eat, can't sleep in love. I was screwed. I had to get out. Save Hermione. But how?

The answer came a week before my departure. I was on my break at the department store when an owl flew in through the open break room window. It had been so long since I had received post by owl, I had almost forgotten what they were for. I took the letter from its beak and immediately recognized the official-looking Ministry seal. I looked around to make sure I was alone before opening it.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_We, at the Ministry of Magic, have acknowledged the fact that your living arrangements in Muggle London with a Miss Hermione Granger are, in fact, temporary. So, we would like to offer you a job opportunity. We cannot explain further in this letter, but the job will allow you to stay in the Muggle World, if you so wish it. Please arrange a meeting me with as soon as possible._

_Sincerely,_

_Rufus Scrimgeour_

_Minister of Magic, United Kingdom._

Draco dropped the letter, his hand trembling. How did so many people know about his whereabouts? It was supposed to be secret! It was supposed to be safe! He picked up the letter and read it again to see if it was some sort of trick.

As he read it a third time, he heart tripped at the words, "_Miss Hermione Granger._"

Hermione. "_Temporary_."

He grew cold. He knew this arrangement with her was temporary. The deal was that he would get a job and look for another flat. Here was the opportunity. But suddenly, he didn't want it. In all honesty, he hadn't even thought of moving out. He _wanted_ to stay with Hermione.

"But you can't," he reminded himself. With that, he squared his shoulders, found and pen and scrawled back, "_What time?_"

The meeting was set for the next day. He called in sick at work for it. As he Apparated into the Ministry's Atrium, he marveled at how he hadn't forgotten how to do it. He supposed it was much like flying a broom; one never forgets.

He fidgeted a bit as he took the lift to the Minister's office. It was the first time he had been in the Magical World in nearly six months. Luckily for him, there were nto that many people milling about the Ministry that day, so he avoided an incident like his last experience coming back into the Magical World.

Scrimgeour called him in and offered Draco a seat in from of him.

"Mr. Malfoy," he addressed slowly, leaning back in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap. "At last we have found you."

"You said you had a job for me?" Draco responded gruffly. Then, with a slightly sheepish smirk, he hastily added, "Sir." Scrimgeour chuckled a bit.

"My, my, you do get right to it, don't you?" Draco said nothing. Scrimgeour sat upright.

"Well then, here's my proposition. I have reviewed your Hogwarts record and, I must say, it is quite impressive. By fifth year, you were second in your class, only beaten by Hermione Granger. Coincidentally, she is now the woman with whom you reside, correct?" Draco didn't know what to say. So he simply nodded. Scrimgeour continued.

"Yes. Then here, it indicates that your grades began to slip slightly in your sixth year, and then, of course, you had failed to return for your seventh."

"All your information is correct, sir. Now, may I inquire about this job…"

"Yes, Draco, I was getting to that." Scrimgeour sat back in his chair again. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in a Ministry job?"

"Here?"

"Not exactly. We could arrange for you to take a job in Muggle law enforcement. My records show you did quite well in Defense Against the Dark Arts and, with your Seeker reflexes, you'd be quite suitable for the job."

"What would that job have to do with your Ministry?"

"There have been a few suspicious Muggle death in the past month and I would like for you to keep watch on the Muggle crime scene. If you see anything suspicious, report to me immediately." Draco nodded to show that he understood.

"So, will you accept my proposal?"

"What about my living arrangements?"

"We had found you a flat no too far form where you currently reside. I'm sure you'll find it quite comfortable." Draco nodded again.

"And I assume that you have already arranged for me to start proper training for this job?"

"That is correct."

Draco sat in silence. His mind kept urging him to take the job. But he couldn't help that small part of him that did not want to leave Hermione, even though he knew he'd be mental not to take it. He'd finally be making a decent amount of money.

"Did I also mention that you'd be properly compensated for your services to the Ministry?" Draco broke away from his train of thought.

"Sir?"

"Well, you'd, of course, be paid for your services. This will all be very hush-hush, you understand. We don't want anyone getting wind of what we're doing here. I haven't even told the Prime Minister what I'm going to do. In exchange for any information you give me, you will be paid for your services. We'll also pay for your training; as I understand, you'll need to attend an academy of some sort for ten months before you can join the force, for which you will be paid for. I understand that it is no walk in the park having to go back to school. Then, of course, when you actually start working the field, you'll have that to hold you over as well." Draco's jaw almost dropped.

"One more question, sir, if I may?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Ah. A member of our Auror staff reported that he had seen you and Miss Granger walking around Diagon Alley about six months ago. We have been tracking you ever since. To tell you the truth, I've been looking for you for quite some time, Mr. Malfoy. You had been sighted several times, but moved too quickly for me to get to you. When you finally settled into one location, I waited a while longer, making sure you stayed there, then sent you that letter." Draco didn't know what to say. Someone had known where he had been this whole time. Someone had been _spying_ on him this whole time! How many others were spying? Did they catch the secret glances he took of Hermione when she wasn't looking? Could they read how much he had come to care for her? Would they come after her to hurt him?

"Mr. Malfoy?" Scrimgeour's voice interrupted his thoughts once again. Draco looked up at him, his mind made up.

"When do I start?"

* * *

My decision to move away from Hermione was mostly based on paranoia, I know. But didn't I have every reason to be afraid? There were still Death Eaters running around free who didn't like my father and despised me more. 

But recently, I've come to realize that I was more afraid of _her_. She had so much power to hurt me and I didn't like it. All my life, I had thrived on this philosophy that because I was of pure blood, I was superior. No one had more power than I and I was invincible. But then there came that day in third year when Hermione Granger, the Muggle-born wench, Virgin Queen of Gryffindor, and annoying know-it-all, slapped me so hard I could have sworn I saw stars. She was the first to break through that barrier that I believed separated me from normal souls and hurt me. My whole invincibility theory was shot because of her. It started with her and could possibly end with her. So, I left her before she could get further under my skin. I hurt her before she could hurt me...again. But she only tore me apart even more without even knowing it. It served me right.

My last night with her came quickly. A little _too_ quickly, if you ask me. I hadn't told her about my new job and I hadn't told her I was leaving. I though it'd be easier. For her or for me, I didn't know. But that night, when I was sure she was asleep, I came quietly into her room and told her I was sorry and that I loved her. I held her close, burying my face into her sweet smelling hair. It was the only time I would ever be this close to her. The only time I would ever be able to tell her the truth. I held her until the first signs of morning appeared. Then I kissed the top of her head, gathered up what few belongings I had and Apparated to my new flat and out of Hermione's life. I'm still trying to convince myself it was for the best.

But my heart just isn't listening.

* * *

So, how'd you like that? Review, _por favor!_


	7. Back to the Present

**_I'll admit it…this story isn't turning out the way that I had hoped. I had hoped for a more mature take on the whole Harry Potter fanfic scene, but it's not really turning out that way. Hopefully, it gets better. I'm not making any promises, but I'll try. I can tell you, though, that it won't end so sad. And if it makes anyone happier, a sequel is in the works._**

_**Anyway, enough of my babbling and on with the story!**_

**Listen to: **_All These Things That I've Done_ - The Killers_ **  
**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 7:  
Back to the Present

* * *

**

Four months have passed since Draco left me. I have convinced myself that Draco is scum even though my heart still aches when I pass his old room. I have also convinced myself that my memory of his last night at my flat was just a dream conjured up by my pathetic infatuation with him. I have tried to convince myself that he is not worth loving any more, but my heart won't listen. When he was near me, I felt whole. And sometimes, I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on the cutest boy in school, who never once paid the least bit of attention to me.

But it's useless to dwell on the past. Draco's gone and I don't suppose that he'll ever come back. We had some good times together and although I know it was a mistake having let him into my life in the first place, I don't regret it. I'm wiser now and I've grown a bit stronger from the experience. I think if I ever run into Draco again, I'll thank him.

Right before hexing his ass to kingdom come, that is.

And that's where my story ends.

* * *

Susan Bones looked at her friend, stunned into silence. Hermione had spent the last three hours pouring out her heart and soul as they sat in the Leaky Cauldron where they had decided to go after work. Hermione was piss drunk by the end of her story and would need to take a taxi home. She checked her watch. It was nearly eleven o' clock. Susan looked back at her friend, who now had her head down on the table, using her arms as a pillow. Susan prodded her. 

"Hermione?" Hermione looked up, tears flowing down her face.

"Why couldn't he love me, Suze?" she sobbed. "Why did he have to be such a bloody…bloody…wanker?" Hermione returned to her earlier position and sobbed and wailed.

"Um…maybe we should get you home." Hermione looked up again.

"You're right. I don't need to stay here and cry about _him_." She wiped the tears off her face and tried to stand, but lost her balance. Susan caught her and helped her stay steady.

"That's right, Hermione. You don't need to waste tears of what's-his-face. Now, come on. Let's get you a cab." Susan paid for hers and Hermione's drinks then helper walk to the door. Just as they got to it, it opened and there stood the devil himself.

"Draco…" Hermione breathed. He froze in front of the two women, his eyes wide. After a brief moment of staring, he blinked and shook his head, replacing the cool mask he constantly wore on his face.

"Good evening, ladies."

"Malfoy," Susan greeted with a brisk nod. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get my poor, pissed friend here a taxi."

"Oh, allow me."

"Th-that's ok," Susan replied nervously. "I can manage." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Ms. Bones, I assure you, I'm not going to hurt her. Just allow me to be a gentleman, please?" Susan hesitated before nodding and passing Hermione off to Draco.

"Do you need her address?" she asked. Draco smirked.

"Oh, no. I'm quite familiar with it, thank you."

"All right, then. Thank you for taking care of her." Draco shrugged.

"It's no problem," he drawled before walking away with Hermione in tow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco rolled his bottle of firewhiskey between his hands as he finished his story. Draco did not know the man with whom he had just bared his soul to; only that as soon as he saw Hermione and Susan walk it, he felt his past coming back to haunt him. So many mistakes made and feeling he had tried to suppress surging up, threatening to suffocate him. He thought he'd explode if he didn't tell someone and this kind stranger was generous enough to listen. 

"Do you still love her?" the stranger asked.

"Of course!" Draco replied without hesitation and with much conviction.

"Why don't you just tell her?"

"But what about—."

"No matter what, there's going to be danger following her everywhere for the rest of her life. She's Harry Potter's best friend and I do believe that any surviving Death Eaters or You-Know-Who supporters hate him more than they hate you. Hell, they probably hate _her_ more than they hate you. I think that you are more afraid of Hermione than what can happen to her. Form what you've told me, I think she is more than capable enough to handle herself."

Draco sat in silence, considering what the stranger said. '_He's right. Hermione _can_ take care of herself. She's done well enough up until now. She's even laughing. What _are_ you afraid of, Malfoy?_' The stranger clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him back to the conversation.

"I'll let you think on it." With that, he left. Draco sighed and decided to head out as well. He paid for his unfinished drink, which he honestly hadn't touched since he'd ordered it. He didn't even know why he was there. He tried so hard to avoid the world from whence he came as much as possible. It wasn't as if he had much time to visit, anyway, since he had started his schooling in the Police Academy. It was slow work, but he wanted to see it through. He left the pub and got so far as ten feet before he began to feel as if he had forgotten something. He went back and ran straight into Susan Bones and…

'_Hermione…_'

A very _drunk_ Hermione.

"Draco…" she whispered. He started at her for a while. She was radiant, even when drunk. Suddenly, an odd feeling overcame him; a warm feeling. It tugged at his heart and made him feel like it was hard to breathe. He took that as a sign and promised Susan that he'd get Hermione home safely.

* * *

Draco hailed a taxi, held an umbrella over Hermione head and still managed to keep her steady as she leaned on him. On top of all that, he tired not to act like her familiar scent and the warmth emanating off her body didn't affect him in the least. Talk about multi-tasking. 

The taxi came and he carefully put Hermione in before sliding in after her. He tried not to show his amusement at her scandalized expression.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" she asked, her speech slurred from all the alcohol she had consumed.

"Being a gentleman and making sure you get home okay." Hermione scowled, but it seemed that in her inebriated state, she was unable to come up with a retort and fell asleep instead, leaning on Draco. He smirked, thoroughly amused by the situation. He pulled Hermione closer, who snuggled deeper into his chest and slept on. He caught the driver's eye in the rearview mirror.

"She yours?" the driver asked. Draco looked down at Hermione again. She looked just as beautiful as the last time he had seen her. She stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes a bit, looking up at him. She smiled before drifting off again. His smiled widened.

"Yes, I do believe so."

* * *

As Draco walked into Hermione's apartment, he felt another strange sensation come over him. It felt a bit like the earlier sensation when he faced Hermione for the first time in months back at the Leaky Cauldron. It was like his insides warmed up. It wasn't uncomfortable; on the contrary. It felt _familiar_. He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling away, but it was still there. He decided to ignore it and continued on to Hermione's room, said girl sleeping in his arms. Six months later and the feelings he had for her still ran strong. In truth, he had though about this woman since the moment he left her. Was she all right? Did she love him back? Did she find someone else? He haid her down on her bed, took off her shoes and tucked the blanket around her. Then, giving in to his impulse, he planted a soft kiss to the top of her head. He heard her sigh and saw her smile. He returned it, even though she could not see it. He exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. He continued on down the hall and came upon his old bedroom door. Curiosity overcoming him, he opened it. 

She had kept his room the same as the day he left. And there, taped to the mirror, was a simple note. The note he couldn't help leaving her on his last morning here.

_Thank you…for everything._

_-Draco._

He sat down on the bed, stripped of its sheets; he had taken them with him when he left.

"How did it come down to this?" he asked himself. He flopped back on the bed and fell asleep, his question remaining unanswered.


	8. When What's Best Isn't Good Enough

**Listen to:** _Stars and Boulevards - _Augustana

* * *

**Chapter 8  
When What's Best Isn't Good Enough

* * *

**

Hermione awoke that morning to the sound of birds chirping, the sun peeking in through the blinds…

And a massive headache to go with her hangover. She groaned and rolled over, putting the pillow over her head to block out the racket the birds were making.

"SHUT UP, BLOODY BIRDS!" she screamed, her voice muffled. Miraculously, the birds stopped their cheery "chirp-chirp-chirp"-ing. But unfortunately, in Hermione's opinion, anyway, another cheery being chose that moment to burst into her room with a breakfast tray.

"Good morning, sunshine! Time for breakfast!" he called out merrily…and annoyingly.

"Remind me to murder you after I'm through being hungover," Hermione mumbled venomously.

"Now, now, Hermione, love, is that anyway to treat your knight in shining armor?" Draco chided.

"You, sir, are not knight," she scoffed.

"Oh? What am I, then?" The fickle memory of a past dream flitted into her head. _And then, out of the smoke-filled sky came a beautiful, majestic green dragon. It flew towards Hermione and offered her its back for her to ride on. She climbed on carefully and they flew off from the sorrow and destruction. _She closed her eyes and let a serene smile light up her face.

"My dragon," she whispered.

"Your what?" Draco's voice shook her out of her reverie. She looked at him and saw that hw was every bit as handsome as the day he left. Her hand came up tot his face, as if it did it on its own accord, and cupped his cheek. Her brain was still a bit fuzzy from all the alcohol she had consumed the night before and therefore, she had no control over what popped out of her mouth.

"_You're_ my dragon, Draco. Not my knight."

"How so?" he asked quietly, not moving a muscle. She smirked.

"There are many reasons, Draco, one being that you're not noble enough to be a knight." She smiled at his astonished expression. She sat up and cupped both hands around his face, getting serious again. "A dragon protects the fortress and the princess inside. That's what you did, Draco. You protected me and you made this little flat seem a bit safer." Draco smiled a bit, but said nothing to reply. He simply picked a glass of orange juice and a pill off her tray and handed both to her.

"Here, take these. They'll make you feel better." Hermione frowned.

"Draco…" He stood.

"It was nice seeing you again, Hermione. Now, I must be going. Goodbye." He began to walk out of the room.

"Draco, wait!" He stopped, but did not turn around to face her. She set the glass and the aspirin back on the tray and walked over to him, but didn't dare touch him.

"Why? Just tell me why, Draco," she pleaded quietly.

"No right now, Granger," he said gruffly. For some reason, his answer irritated her.

"Oh, so it's back to last names then, _Malfoy_?" He said nothing. "Well? I'm waiting." He turned to face her, the weariness evident on his face.

"I can't, Hermione. I'm sorry. Please understand that I need time."

"You're _sorry_? You need _time_?" She exclaimed incredulously. "Draco, you left me without so much as a _hint_ of where you went off to." Angry tears began to fall down her face, but she no longer cared. She was mad, hurt, and, worst of all, still in love with this man whom she desperately desired to hate.

"I didn't know if you were dead, or kidnapped, eloped, or…or…hell, I don't know! Run off with the circus, even. I was worried sick about you and now, here you are, and all you can tell me is that you're sorry, but you need time?" At this point, she was yelling and close to hysterical, while Draco stood there, calm and silent. Finally, he spoke.

"Yes, and to take your aspirin. Goodbye, Hermione." With that, he strolled out the door, whistling a merry little tune. Hermione proceeded to do something very juvenile, but effective.

She buried her face into a pillow and screamed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco exited the apartment, locking the door after himself before exhaling heavily. He felt like a complete asshole for making her cry _again_. Plus, with the way he left just now, he didn't know how he lived with himself, knowing that Hermione was off crying while he was here, knowing that all that he's been doing was for the best. But now, he was beginning to think that what was best wasn't good enough.

* * *

Hermione's stomach growled as she sat at her desk at work two days later. She pulled her attention away from the window, where she had been staring for the past three hours, and focused of her hunger. She was about to leave for her lunch break, when Draco strolled through her office door. 

"Hello, love. Miss me?" he asked, smirking sexily-er-annoyingly.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione spat, gathering her things up. Draco blocked the doorway.

"I want to talk to you." Hermione scoffed.

"_Now_ you want to talk?" She tried to leave, but he blocked her only exit.

"Please, Hermione. You have to understand that this is for the best." She face another incredulous grunt.

"For the best? Best for whom?" She was angry now and glared at Draco.

"You left without explanation, Draco! The least you could have done after living with me for six months was tell me when you were leaving. I though we were friends. I mean, I told you everything. Do you have any idea how much you've hurt me? At first, it was your strange behavior and then there were the date and then you left…"

"What do you care if I go on date or if I left? I figured you'd be happy that I was finally out of your hair." Hermione stomped her foot in frustration.

"Because I _do_ care!" Draco looked away from Hermione at her admission. She blushed, but didn't take back what she said.

"It's true," she said quietly. "I care about you, Draco. So when you just left so suddenly like that, it hurt." Draco closed his eyes. He couldn't let her words affect him. A relationship would never work out between them. They were too different, and there was that threat he could bring to her life, although that didn't seem like a strong argument anymore.

"It wasn't as if we were together, Granger. I don't know why you let it affect you so much." Ire flashed in her amber eyes.

"You know what? I don't have to listen to you. Why are you here, anyway? Get out of my office." Draco stood still for a moment, engaged in a silent staring contest with Hermione. In all honesty, he didn't know exactly why he was there. He just needed to see her, had to talk to her just to hear her voice. Then, as if his feet had minds of their own, they carried him to stand directly in front of her. Her scent wafted to his nose and enticed his senses. She was so close. All he had to do was reach out to her. His hand twitched.

'_No,'_ he told himself.

"What do you mean _no_?" Hermione said, growing increasingly irritated with him. He shook his head, realizing that he had spoken out loud. He gave her another look and before he knew what he was doing, he stood directly in front of her. He expected her to back away, but she did not, although there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes. Draco gently grabbed her arms and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I care about you, too, Hermione. Trust me when I say that it's best if we didn't try to go any further than this?" _Now_ she backed away, the hurt in her eyes more pronounce.

"Then what was the purpose of you coming here?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I…I don't know. I just had to see you, Hermione." She held her hands out at her sides.

"Well, you've seen me. So leave." He began to walk tot the door and put his hand on the doorknob, but he couldn't turn it. He couldn't leave just yet.

"I've missed you, you know," he said with his back still turned to her. She didn't reply. "I thought about you at least once a day, Hermione. And every time I though of you, I kicked myself in the arse for the way I treated you after all you've done for me. Even as I reminded myself that it would never work between us, I still missed you and regretted having hurt you and wondered if you missed me, too." He slowly looked over his shoulder.

"Did you, Hermione? Did you miss me?" Tears were falling down her face. She swiped at them angrily.

"Damn you, Draco! Do you want to stay or leave? Make up your mind! Don't confuse me like this!"

"But I _can't_ stay."

"Then what the hell are you still doing here?" she screamed in frustration. She put her head in her hands and tried to steady her breathing. She looked up again, her expression cold.

"I believe we're done here, Malfoy. You may see yourself out. _I'm _going to lunch." She tried to move past him, but he stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Just answer my question, Hermione. Did you miss me?" She closed her eyes, tired of fighting him and the memories his very presence evoked.

"Yes, Draco," she whispered. "I missed you, very much." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"That's all I needed to know." With that, he strolled out the door, leaving a confused Hermione behind.


	9. A Birthday Message

**Listen to: **_Don't Know Why - _Norah Jones

* * *

**Chapter 9  
A Birthday Message

* * *

**

Another six months passed and Hermione had not heard a word from Draco since that day in her office. Most of her was relieved, but she couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he didn't try harder to get past whatever barrier was keeping him from her. She sighed. It just went to show that although he said that he cared, he didn't care enough.

The rain tapped against her bedroom window. Everyday for the past twenty-three years, it had rained on her birthday. She sighed again as she realized that this year was no different. It had rained last year, too. And on top of that, Draco was acting too strange to have even noticed that it was her birthday. She gave a frustrated grunt and pulled away from the window.

"I have got to stop thinking about him!" she said to no one in particular. She glanced over at her kitchen table. There was a card from Ginny and Harry, one from Susan, one from Hagrid, which came with a small homemade birthday cake (she hadn't touched it yet), and another from Professor McGonagall. She moved her gaze to the coffee table in the living room and there was the parcel from her parents, which she had yet to open, a gift basket from work, and a vase filled with a boquet of roses, sent to her by the man she had gone on a date with last month. The attached card asked when they could go on another. She sighed as she looked at it. He was nice…what was his name? Ah, yes…_Drake_. It sounded so close to _Draco_. It didn't take her long to realize that the two were **nothing **alike. She should have been relieved, but she found it quite…unsatisfying. It felt wrong, somehow. She laughed bitterly to herself. That was ridiculous. It would only feel wrong if she and Draco were together.

And that, they were not.

If anything, she _should _feel as if she was betraying Ron. After all, if was only two months after his death that Draco came to live with her. And four months later, she believed herself to be in love with him!

_"Let me go, Hermione." _Hermione perked up.

"Who said that?"

_"Me."_

"Ron?"

_"Who else would it be?"_

"How can that…but you're…"

"Dead? I know." The voice came from right next to her ear. She screamed and spun around to see Ron standing next to her. Well, at least it _looked_ like Ron.

"Ron?" He rolled his eyes.

"I believe we've established this already. Yes, it is me." Hermione stared in disbelief at the silvery, floating apparition in front of her. She reached out a tentative hand and he mirrored her movements. As soon as their fingertips touched, she felt as if hers and been touching ice. She gasped and pulled her hand back.

"You're a ghost!"

"Thank you for stating the obvious. Still quick as a whip, you are." She smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, but you have to understand that this is all quite a shock." Ron shrugged and walked over to the couch contemplating whether he should attempt to sit or not.

"Yes, I didn't plan on becoming a ghost, but I guess Fate thought I could help you a bit."

"Help me how?" Ron scowled.

"With _Malfoy_." Hermione blushed.

"What do you mean? There is nothing going on between Dr—er—Malfoy and me." Ron smiled amusedly.

"Even when I was alive, I could tell you weren't a very good liar, Hermione." She sighed and sat down on the sofa heavily.

"Well, I'm not lying. There really isn't anything. It was over before it began."

"What's _really_ holding you back, Hermione?" She looked up at him, perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why won't you let yourself love Malfoy?" She chuckled nervously.

"Love? Malfoy? Ron, I can't l-love _Malfoy_."

"And why not?"

"Because I loved you, Ron. I would have thought that was obvious."

"Hermione…come on. I've been dead for two years, now. I think now is a good enough time to let me go. Besides," he added with a sly grin. "We both know that you haven't even _thought_ of me in quite a while."

"Th-that's…"

"One hundred percent true, and you know it." He put a pout on his face. "I'm actually hurt, Hermione, that you forgot about me that quickly. What's Malfoy got that I didn't?" Hermione smiled a bit.

"Are you sure you really want to know, Ron? I mean, it is _Malfoy_ after all." Ron grimaced.

"You're right. Maybe I don't want to know." Hermione giggled.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Do? About what?"

"Blimey, woman! Haven't you been paying attention? Are you going to tell Malfoy that you're in love with him or not?"

"Ron! I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because…why?" Hermione drew her knees in close to her chest.

"Because Draco can't possibly like me back," she said quietly.

"And how do you know this?"

"Well, why else hasn't he owled or called or visited or…or…ugh! Why hasn't he tried to contact me? It's been six months! You'd think that if he loved me he'd have told me."

"Well, that's not fair, Hermione. The poor bloke was on the run from crazy Death Eaters who wanted his head for betraying Voldemort and Aurors who still considered him the enemy and you want him to come all the way down here to tell you that he loves you?"

"Yes! I can't tell him before I know how he feels. What if he _doesn't_ feel the same? I just don't want to get hurt."

"Hasn't he already done that?"

"You're right. So, there…he doesn't even deserve me love."

"Wrong. He's already apologized and whether you want to admit it or not, you've already forgiven him." She sat still, allowing Ron's words to sink in. A part of her knew it was true, but the rest of her still wanted to deny it all. Her pride wouldn't allow her to admit when she was wrong.

"You know I'm right, Hermione," Ron's voice interrupted through her thoughts. She began to cry frustrated tears.

"What am I supposed to do then?" She asked, her voice raising a bit. "I don't know where to find him or what to say. What do you want me to do?"

"You'll know." The clock struck midnight. "Well, that's my cue to leave."

"But…"

"Do me a favor, Hermione. Next time you see Malfoy, listen to your heart, not your head. Sometime, you think too much." She nodded wordlessly as he turned away from her.

"Wait!" He stopped and turned back around.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"How'd you get to be so smart?" He smiled back.

"In death, you learn all of life's great secrets. Remember what I said, Hermione." He tapped his heart before turning away again and finally disappearing. Ten minutes later, she was still sitting on her sofa.

"That was weird."


	10. Breaking In

**A/N: I'm soooooo sorry for the late update! I'm a terrible person, I know. But if it's any consolation to y'all, I've finished it. A sequel _may_ be in the works…we shall see. But in the mean time, here's the rest of "My Favorite Mistake!" Thanks for reading!**

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**Listen to: **_Work ­_– Jimmy Eat World

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**Chapter 10  
Breaking In**

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Draco sat in the passenger seat of Officer O'Malley's squad car, nervous as hell. It was his first day of patrol since coming out of the academy. Half of him hoped he'd get to see some action while the other half hoped they wouldn't get a call. Would he know what to do? Would he calmly address the situation, as he was trained t do, or would he blank out? He hoped not. Thoughts flew in and out of his mind and he began to get a headache. So he did what he always did to divert his thoughts.

He thought of Hermione.

It had been a full year since he had moved out. He ran a hand through his hair, realizing that he had missed her birthday…again. He winced. If Hermione was keeping a tally of all his shortcomings, she probably has decided by now to turn around and run far, far away from him. He sighed, thinking of how disgustingly soft he had become here Hermione Granger was concerned. But there was really nothing to do, now. The damage was done.

"What are you thinking, Malfoy?" O'Malley asked. Malfoy turned to look at the older man, honestly having forgotten that he was there.

"Nothing much," he replied.

"Excited?"

"A bit." O'Malley nodded.

"I remember my first patrol. I was alone, driving around in my squad car, thinking I was something. My first call was to a quiet neighborhood where someone had reported hearing screams from his neighbor's house. I got there and found a woman lying on her kitchen floor, bleeding, and her young son screaming and crying. I was in such shock I didn't know what to do. I ended up calling for back up and sitting down with my head in my hands, trembling."

Draco said nothing. He hoped that nothing of that sort would happen. He was really in no mood to be poking about dying women and their snot-nosed children. It seemed no on was listening to his wishes as the radio crackled and the voice of the dispatcher came through the static.

"We've got a break-in," she crackled. "Caller says suspect came in with a black hood hiding is features. Suspect currently unconscious." Draco blanched. It sounded like a Death Eater hit. The dispatcher's voice crackled through again.

"Caller was female, address of residence, 63 Winchester Street, apartment 2B, London. Draco felt his heart stop at the all too familiar address.

_Hermione_.

* * *

O'Malley and Draco arrived in time to hear glass breaking and shouting coming from inside Hermione's apartment. The men exchanged looks before O'Malley pounded on the door. 

"Police! Open the door!" The commotion inside stilled before a muffled voice yelled coming dreadfully similar to "_Crucio!_" Hermione screamed in reply. O'Malley wasted no time in knocking down the door, his gun held out in front on him. Draco made sure to stay some ways back so the Death Eater would not see him and blow his cover.

"Put your hands in the air where I can see them!" O'Malley commanded. Draco peeked in and saw the hooded figure standing in the middle of Hermione's trashed living room, Hermione no where in sight. O'Malley stepped forward and yanked the suspect's hands behind his back, handcuffing him. He then escorted the hooded figure out of the apartment, instructing Draco to tend to the victim. Draco blew out a steadying breath before walking in.

And there she was.

She was lying behind the couch, crumpled up from the pain she had just endured. Draco reached out a tentative hand, gently touching her shoulder.

"Hermione," he whispered. She looked up slowly, tears still in her eyes.

"Draco," she croaked, her voice raw and hoarse from screaming. "It hurt. It hurt so much…" He shushed her and opened his arms to her. She willingly allowed herself to be comforted, crying silent tears as he rocked her back and forth. After she calmed down a bit, he picked her up and set her down on the couch, asking her to tell him what happened as he took notes.

"He Apparated in while I was having dinner and called me 'Potter's Mudblood whore' before sending a spell that threw me against the wall. I pulled out my wand and sent him flying as well. We sent hexes and spells and curses at each other and dodged all of them. Finally, I managed to catch him off guard and stunned him. He had just woken up again when you two arrived." Draco finished taking notes before ripping that page off the pad and shoving it into his pocket. He then began to write a new set of notes, making the story seem more like an ordinary Muggle break-in. He read it to Hermione so their stories would match. She repeated it back to him. Draco smiled and nodded when she finished. At that point, O'Malley came back in.

"I called for back up. They're already taking him to the station. Miss, you're going to need to come down to the station with us and give us an official statement." Hermione nodded and she and Draco followed O'Malley out to the car. The car ride was short and quiet and the visit to the station seemed even shorter. Before long, Draco was leading her out to his car so he could take her home. He stopped next to it and held her at arms length, just looking at her.

"You know, Hermione I almost had a heart attack when we got the call tonight." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was so scared…I swear, I've never been more afraid or worried in my life."

"Why, Draco?" she whispered. He looked deep into her eyes. _Shit_. He had said too much. But remembered her blood-curdling scream of pain…he couldn't help pulling her close to his body.

"I could've lost you, Hermione." To his surprise, Hermione pushed him away. He stumbled back a bit and looked at her, puzzled at her behavior.

"Stop doing that, Draco!" she said, firmly.

"Doing what?"

"Stop acting like you care about me!"

"But, Hermione…"

"No! I don't care what you say anymore, Draco. One minute you act like you care, only to push me away the next minute. I don't know what you want from me!"

"I want…" Hell. What _did_ he want? He wanted a lot of things. Potter and Weasely to disappear off the face of the Earth, taking all the Death Eater with him, an endless supply of those Mars Topic bars that Hermione had always brought home when he lived with her, to be a rich and successful Quidditch player…among other things. But what did he want from Hermione?

"Too much," he whispered. She shook her head.

"Tell me," she whispered back, coming close again. He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"I can't…" He opened his eyes, expecting to see Hermione's angry face, but instead, he saw the back of her has as she walked away. He caught up to her and gently grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Hermione. You have to understand—"

"You keep saying that, Draco! _You have to understand. It's for the best, Hermione. _How, Draco? How can this be the 'best' thing?"

"Hermione, I can't explain it to you right now."

"Why the hell not?" At this point, Hermione was yelling at Draco in frustration.

"Damn it, Hermione! This isn't about you, ok?" His outburst stunned her into silence. He took in a shaky breath in an effort to calm himself down.

"Hermione, I know it's hard for you, not knowing any of my motives, but you're just going to have to trust me." He finally opened the passenger side door to his car, motioning for her to get in. He drove for a while, deep in though. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"When did you learn to drive?" she asked.

"I started to learn a bit after I moved out. I got my license about five months ago."

"Oh." More silence. Then, "When did you become a policeman?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Today was my first day, actually."

"Oh." He caught her staring at him from the corner of his eye. He glanced at her before looking back at the road.

"What?"

"Nothing! Just…that uniform suits you." Draco felt himself blush.

"Why, thank you, er…I guess." She smiled at him before turning her attention to the scenery whipping by. He glanced over at Hermione as she looked out the window, her lips curled up in a small content smile. He glanced down at her hand resting on the seat. With all the courage he could muster, he reached across and held her small hand in his. She looked up, startled.

"I'm really glad you're ok, Hermione," he whispered hoarsely. She smiled and squeezed his hand in return. They finally pulled up to Hermione's building. She looked up at it, still holding on to his hand. She wasn't smiling anymore.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She looked back at him, a haunted look on her face.

"I don't…I can't go in there. Not right now." He nodded in understanding.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Just drive." He didn't know where else to go and drove to his flat. He helped her out of the car and she laced her arms through his as they walked. He looked down at her, startled. She simply smiled. He eased up and enjoyed the warmth radiating off her body.

As they walked in, he felt that same strange feeling come over him as that day some six months back she he entered Hermione's house. That familiar feeling that he couldn't place. Once again, he ignored it. He turned to Hermione instead.

"Want anything to drink?" She shook her head.

"I'm fine, thanks." He nodded and stood awkwardly in his own living room before excusing himself to change out of his uniform. He came back out and noticed Hermione fiddling with his sound system.

"Need help?" She spun around.

"Draco, don't do that! You scared me!" He smirked amusedly. He walked close to her and whispered in her ear.

"You're cute when you're flustered." He pulled back, noticing the blush on her cheeks.

"Draco Malfoy, are you flirting with me?" He shrugged.

"Maybe." With that, he turned to the sound system, pressing a few buttons and allowing some soft jazz to flow out of the speakers. He turned and bowed towards Hermione.

"May I have this dance?" She smiled and allowed herself to be taken in and led into a slow dance. As they danced, he gazed into her eyes and that feeling he had been trying to ignore being to grow stronger. What was it? The song ended and he finally realized what it was. Looking at Hermione he realized that he wasn't the only one who felt it.

"You feel it, too, don't you?" he asked her. She nodded.

"What is it?" she asked him. Instead of answering right away, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. It was meant to only be a quick kiss, but somehow, just that one touch caused an onslaught of emotions to attack him; passion, desire, love and that last feeling. The feel he had only felt with Hermione.

"_Home…_" he whispered against her lips. She smiled.

"Then welcome Home, Draco." She held him close and he suddenly felt overcome with emotion.

"Hermione, I…" He stopped. He was about to tell her that he loved her. He shouldn't. He shouldn't have even brought her here. But he realized something…finally.

She was here because she had been attacked in her own house. And according to her story, the Death Eater had been there because of her connection to _Potter_, not _him_.

"You what, Draco?" He looked down at her and saw the apprehension there…as if her life depended on what he said next. He finally realized that the stranger he had spoken to at the Leaky Cauldron all those months ago was right: "_No matter what, there's going to be danger following her everywhere for the rest of her life." _As long as there were still evil people in the world, life itself was one big risk. Not just for Hermione, but for him as well. With that final though, he finally told Hermione what he should have told her a long time ago.

"I love you, Hermione." Without warning, Hermione pressed her lips against his once more.

"I love you, too." With that admission, Draco felt the last of the barriers he had put to block out his feeling break down. He also realized that the only real fear he had was that Hermione might not love him back. He kissed her one more time.

"Thank you."


	11. Finally Coming Home

**Listen to: **_Brighter Than Sunshine_ – Aqualung

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**Chapter 11**

**Finally Coming Home**

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"The biggest mistake I ever made was leaving you," Draco said. He and Hermione were cuddled up on the couch, a fire burning merrily in the fireplace. She looked up and over her should at him.

"The biggest mistake I ever made was not holding on to you," she said softly. He chuckled.

"What a pair we make, eh?" Her only replay was a smile before turning back to the fire.

"Are you ready to tell me, now?" He tensed; she could feel it. He blew out a puff of hair that ruffled the top of her head.

"It's quite silly now that I think about it, but at the time it seemed serious. She turned to face him fully so she could see his face as he explained. He looked straight into her eyes.

"I thought that by leaving you, I'd be protecting you."

"How?' she asked incredulously and a bit angry.

"Remember that night I left your flat and landed myself in the hospital? He eyes stung with tears as she recalled the memory, but she nodded.

"I ran into an ex-Death Eater that night." She gasped.

"Draco! Why didn't you tell me?"

"He said that he knew where I was staying and made threats on your life. He said that I wasn't to say a word or…or…he'd kill you." His voice cracked at those last few words and she took his hand in hers, giving them a squeeze.

"Draco…"

"I didn't want to take that risk, Hermione. I couldn't let anyone hurt you. But I hurt you instead, believing it was the best thing to do. Leave you, letting things go back to the way they used to be between us and they won't hurt you. It never occurred to me that they would try to hurt you for your connection to Potter, but that's what happened tonight." She was crying, now. He was stupid, yes, but he had done what he thought he had to do with good interests in mind: _her._

He reached out a hand and brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry, Hermione, for everything. I knew I hurt you and made you cry. And, I admit, I was being stupid. But I did it because I though I'd be protecting you. I get points for that, right?" She laughed at his hang dog expression.

"Yes, I suppose you do." Suddenly, she let out a great yawn. "Oh! Excuse me! I guess all this excitement tired me out." They both stood up, another awkward silence stretched between them.

"Well…er…that is, um…do you need for me to drive you home?" he asked. She shuffled her feet a bit and fiddled with the zipper on her jacket.

"Actually…do you think…I mean, would you mind if I stayed here? I don't think I could stay at my own flat tonight."

"Oh! Yes, of course you can stay. Let me prepare the guest room."

In a matter of minutes, she was curled up in the guest bed and fast asleep

_As she slept, a hooded figure crept quietly into her room. He pointed his wand at her and whispered _"Crucio." _She let out a pained scream._

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Draco rushed out of his room at the sound of Hermione's scream, want at the ready. He burst into her room to find her tossing and turning in sleep. _A nightmare_, he thought, relieved. She was having a nightmare. He walked over to the bed, setting his wand down before shaking Hermione awake.

"Hermione, wake up!" She opened her eyes and looked around, not recognizing her surrounding at first. She rested her gaze on Draco again and broke down, letting herself melt into his embrace.

"Hold me, Draco. Don't let me go." He smoothed down her hair.

"I won't Hermione. I'll never let you go."

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It was another boring Saturday for Hermione. She had sat at home all day, watching a romantic comedy marathon on some movie channel she wasn't aware she had. She called Ginny and had a small chat, asking how Harry and the kids were. Ginny already had two and there was talk of maybe trying for number three. But most of all, she waited for Draco's shift to end so she could find out what his "surprise" was.

Ever since the night of the break-in, she and Draco had been inseparable. He had even made nice with Harry and the two of them had gotten along nicely. They still butted head over Quidditch and football, but men will be men. Hermione and he had been together for a year, now, and were very happy. There were still a couple incidences where Draco would start to panic about Death Eaters trying to take her away from him, and she occasionally had nightmare, but she assured Draco and herself that they would be fine.

A buzz sounded throughout the flat, indicating that someone was at the intercom. She answered it.

"Who is it?"

"Chinese delivery." She smiled.

"Draco, I gave you a key. Why don't you use it?"

"Because I like hearing your voice." She blushed and buzzed him in. Moments later, she heard the sound of a key rattling at the door and waited for Draco to come in. She ran into his arms and he picked her up, holding her tight.

"Where's my surprise?" He chuckled.

"No beating around the bush for you, eh?" She smiled.

"Nope."

"All right, then. No use in keep milady waiting. Let's go."

"Go?"

"Yes. It's not hat long of a drive, but we have to go now."

"Now?"

"Stop repeating everything I say, Hermione, and let's go."

"But…you're still in uniform!"

"That's okay. You think it's sexy." He gave her a wink.

"You're insufferable."

"But you love me." He gave her a quick kiss. "Now, let's go!" She let herself be dragged out the door and into his ear. They drove until they reached a quiet neighborhood with family-sized houses.

"What are we doing here?" she asked. He didn't answer her. He pulled into the driveway of a house where a man with thin, graying hair stood outside, a big, fake smile pasted on his face. Draco took Hermione's hand and led her over to the man. Draco and he shook hands.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Good to see you again. And this must be the woman you've told me about." Draco pulled Hermione forward a bit.

"Yes, this is Hermione."

"Lovely to meet you," the man said, shaking her hand.

"Hermione, this is Grey Greyson." She smiled, both in amusement and to show friendliness to the man before her.

"Pleasure." Greyson then motions of them to follow him and they turned the house. It was a lovely house, one she could imagine raising a family in. She glanced at Draco. What did the man have up his sleeve now?

By the end of the tour, Hermione was in love with the house. Greyson stepped out to let them talk. Draco turned to Hermione and took her hands in his.

"So, what do you think?"

"I love it! It's beautiful."

"Ah, but you haven't seen the best part. Come on." He led her over to a pair of French doors that led to the backyard. Draco opened them and treated Hermione to the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. It was filled with all of her favorite flowers, creating a world of vibrancy and color.

"Wow…" she breathed. She turned to Draco. "So, why did we come here?"

"I'm thinking of by8ing this house." She raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"No, actually. I'm not. I've already bought it." Both eyebrows shot up this time.

"You did?" He turned to her and nodded.

"Yes. But I bought it with only one thing in mind. You."

"Me? You bought this house for me?"

"From the moment I walked into this house, I knew that this was a place in which I would like to raise a family. And I'm not being too presumptuous in thinking you feel the same?"

"No, I do feel that way."

"Right. I knew we'd have that in common. Just as we have so many other things in common. Which is why I bought this house."

"Because we have a lot in common?"

"No, because we could both picture ourselves raising our family in it. But in my fantasy, there was only one person I saw as my wife, Hermione." His gaze burned all the way into her very soul.

"Me?" He nodded.

"Yes, Hermione. You are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You're the only one for whom I have ever wanted to put before myself. And you are the one who taught me what living in a home feels like. And that is a feeling I never want to lose. I want to feel that way in this house, too. With you."

"You want me to move in with you? Is that what you're saying?

"Not only that, Hermione. That dream of raising our families here, I want that to be one dream shared between the two of us. I guess what I'm really asking is…" he pulled a back, velvet jewelry box from his pocket and got down on one knee.

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me and make our dream come true in this house?" Hermione looked into the box and there sat the most beautiful engagement ring she had ever seen. Tears pricked at her eyes.

"Oh, Draco…"

"Say yes, Hermione."

"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" She pulled his up and awarded him with a kiss to seal her consent. They pulled away long enough so he could place the ring on her finger.

"I love you, Draco."

"I love you, too. You don't know exactly how much I love you and how happy you've made me, Hermione." She kissed him lightly and rested her cheek against his.

"Well, now you have the rest of our lives to show me exactly how much."

"Remember, I'm not perfect, Hermione. I will make mistakes."

"We both will. But we can work through them together, one step at a time."

"You know, I used to think that the biggest mistake I ever made was coming to you for help in the first place."

"Oh really? I used to think my biggest mistake was letting you into my life. But you know what?"

"What?"

"If that was a mistake…it's my favorite one."

"You're mine, too."

**FIN**


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